


his kaleidoscope

by venitempus



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Instability, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venitempus/pseuds/venitempus
Summary: When all the colour pours out of you, there is nothing left but to paint in black and white - paint the nothing you desperately want to understand. Jungkook tried, Taehyung betrayed, Jimin fled, Yoongi intruded, and Jin replaced.
Kudos: 1





	his kaleidoscope

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by Greek mythology, the Mononoke series’ aesthetics (not the actual plot/story, but the art), Takashi Murakami, and Gustave Doré. This story deals with very serious issues, and mental health. If you are struggling yourself, maybe this is not the story for you. I am not writing about this lightly, but it is something I felt like sharing. The character choices were quite random – I did not plan them beforehand, but when I wrote the story I felt who needed what role. 
> 
> Please seek help if you need it, from your family, friends, or professionals.

* * *

*******

_ _

> _Sans cesse à mes côtés s'agite le Démon;  
>  II nage autour de moi comme un air impalpable;  
>  Je l'avale et le sens qui brûle mon poumon  
>  Et l'emplit d'un désir éternel et coupable_.*
> 
> Charles Baudelaire, La Destruction

  
_**T**_ he liquid was a kaleidoscope – it broke down in colours, moving to create patterns that hypnotise the human eye. His eyes were fixed on a spot, but they moved – the colours carried his thoughts far away, his fingers were cold. Completely out of mind, and perhaps more present than they expected him to be.

“So you paid for the show to look at your drink?” the dancer asked, offended by his lack of interest. He felt his blood rushing through his veins – it was insatiable anger. He took a sip, and broke the colours. But they returned.

“My money, my choice,” he grunted and the dancer scoffed. The dancer sat down on the bar, trying to attract his attention. He could not understand what was so _damn_ interesting about a glass of wine.

“You chose to pay me, so the least you could do is watch,” the dancer shrugged, moving the glass of wine away, but the customer grabbed it. His firm grip almost startled the dancer. Luckily, he has seen many drunks, and he knows that it is best to let a man in pain drink his sorrow.

“I paid you so you do not have to dance,” he took another sip, the colours returned. He lifted his eyes from his drink, and his gaze fell upon the dancer’s face. He was a pretty boy, in a way he pitied him – but in many ways he did not give a shit about his fate. “What was your name again?”

“I go by Jay. But it’s really Jimin,” the dancer wished he would not have given away his real name to a complete stranger. He had no idea why he trusted the weird customer – trust was, however, a very strong word. More than anything, the stranger made him very, _very_ uncomfortable.

“They call me Taehyung, but it is really Erebus,” the customer replied and finished his glass of wine in one go. Jimin looked at him confused, and unconsciously slid away from him. He wanted to ask if whatever-his-name-was wanted another drink, but honestly he just wanted him to _leave_.

“That’s unusual. But pretty, I guess” Jimin said, trying to sound as nice as possible.

“Humans are quite hilarious,” Taehyung pushed his glass away, and stood up. Jimin looked at him dumbfounded, but he did not ask. Taehyung placed some money next to Jimin, then slid his hands in his pockets. “I witness enough pathetic acts tonight. Do me a favour and buy yourself decent clothes, Jimin,” and he walked away, just like that. Jimin stared after him for a while, his entire body feeling queasy.

“Hey, Kook. What d’you reckon his problem is?” Jimin asked his friend – and bartender – after he came back to his senses.

“It’s best not to mingle, Jimin. The guy’s bad news. He scares a lot of customers,” Kook sighed, collecting the empty glass. Jimin picked up the money, but he handed it to Kook instead. The thought of spending it made him feel uneasy, so he decided not to.

“D’you think he’ll be back?” Jimin asked, hoping that the answer will be a definite ‘no’. But Kook did not answer, and that gave Jimin a reason to want to quit his job. Too bad he needed the money.

The next night, he was back. This time parading a deep cut on his cheek, and messy black hair. He ordered the usual – wine, and Jimin. And Jimin really did not want to perform for him again – it was very uncomfortable to dance for nobody in a bar full of somebodies who would have loved to spoil him with attention. But he did not want to upset the weirdo, plus his friend needed him to do this. Taehyung stared at Kook for long, seemingly without purpose. Jimin thought it was suspicious, the guy was practically analysing his closest friend.

“Y’know he doesn’t do the dancing,” Jimin sat down next to Taehyung this time, it was no use to be on the bar if the guy is not going to enjoy it.

“And that is the entire point,” Taehyung took a sip of his drink, and continued to look at Kook. Kook was preparing drinks for other customers, so by the time he noticed Taehyung’s peculiar behaviour, he was already one glass of wine in.

“You need a refill?” Kook inquired politely, while Jimin was trying to warn him unsuccessfully. A new customer sat next to Taehyung, and placed a hand on his wrist. Jimin recognised him, because he was a regular – a quite sweet guy, he liked him. His name was Suga – or at least he liked to be called that.

“Is there a problem here?” Suga’s voice was calm, and reassuring. Jimin felt safe – he did not know why, or how.

“What do you want, Zeus? Are you here to tell me that you are ready to clean up your filth? Because if that is not the case, then just go back to Olympus” and as he spoke, time stopped – literally. But Jimin was still aware of his surrounding – it was just moving much slower, and he was not moving at all. Suga’s facial expression changed, and Jimin swore he could feel a dangerous energy radiating.

“Erebus, I told you to go back to your damn pit. Why are you still looming around?”

“You tried to hide _him_ from me, Zeus. You clever, old goat. You forgot I am a much older than you, and much better,” Taehyung smirked, his eyes did not leave Kook’s. Jimin was not sure if Kook was affected by time the way he was, or if he was dreaming. Jimin certainly recognised the name Zeus – but it could not be, could it? No, non-sense.

“What are you talking about?” Suga’s grip tightened, and Taehyung turned to face him. The back of his head turned into a cloak of darkness – and Jimin swore he saw the personification of evil. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, to warn Suga, and Kook, and everyone else.

“I told you not to mingle in my business. This would have been a lot easier if you would have just handed me Hermes over when I asked you to. Alas, you are here to witness the disappearance of your favourite son,” and as he said that, a hand of darkness reached over and grabbed Kook’s neck, choking him. Then they both disappeared, and time started to move forward. Jimin saw Suga get up enraged, and storm off. He ran after him as fast as he could, and grabbed his wrist.

“Where did he take him?” Suga looked at Jimin perplexed. Perhaps he did not expect Jimin to remember that interaction, perhaps he was not supposed to witness that.

“Difficult to say. I am sorry, Jimin. Your friend will never be back, and you have to forget about him now. Forget about Taehyung too, alright?” Suga said, and Jimin wanted to protest, tell him that there was no way he was forgetting – he forgot. He did not know what he was supposed to remember, probably just to lock up. He returned to the bar and saw his friend, and bartender Jin.

*******

Jungkook woke up suffocating. He looked around, and kept looking. But there was _nothing_ around him – it was completely dark. Silence, and darkness. He was barefoot, and his knees were weak. His hands turned a little blue – it was so cold.

“Hello?” he called, and he heard himself, his echo. So he was alone, so _alone_. “This isn’t funny,” he called again. His echo mocked him, but that was all. He started walking blindly, there was nothing around to guide him, help him. He was completely alone.

He fell. There was a hole – a loophole, and he found it. For a moment, he was falling, and it felt wonderful. He saw colours, and patterns on the walls – finally. Faces, and murals, skulls, and doodles. So many colours, it made him smile. However, a cloud of darkness was following him rapidly – he did not know when he was about to crash. And he saw his face, he did. It was Erebus – he called him Erebus. But his name was really Taehyung. He knew that, he knew it. The times he spent staring at him in art class, drawing his pretty face – and his eyes. His eyes were so beautiful, he could not get enough of them. Taehyung hated his eyes – because he told Jungkook he cannot read colour, he cannot see the colours Jungkook adores. Naturally, Jungkook started painting black and white. Rivers, portals, sketches of his deepest, darkest fantasies. He gave them all to Taehyung, they were all _for_ Taehyung. He spent so much time finding ways to tell Taehyung he does not want colours if he cannot see them – Jungkook did not want to have something Taehyung could not have. His obsession concerned Jimin, he remembers. At some point they stopped hanging out – him and Jimin – because Jimin found a new best friend. But it was alright, because Jungkook had black and white for Taehyung. When the favourite student Yoongi dedicated an entire wall to Taehyung though, that is when it went all downhill. He picked colours again – reds, violent magenta, hurtful cyan. And then he painted with something of himself – his red, his inexhaustible source of red. Taehyung could not see his colours, he could not see _red_. The walls around him were on fire, he could smell burning paper. He saw the colours burning away, dissolving in flames – and what was left? A big hole – _nothingness_ , darkness. Erebus stuck around. He could feel the pressure, the presence that screamed _do it_. Taehyung’s beautiful face got uglier when he fell for Yoongi’s grand gesture – Jungkook saw it happen right before him. The minute he said _yes_ , his face turned into something he did not want to see ever again. But, the face haunted him. The colours haunted him, he _had_ to do it, you _have_ to understand it. You just _have_ to.

When he hit the cold floor he did not feel anything. Empty. Gone.

*******

Taehyung picked up an illustration and stared at it for a long time. His eyes were blurry, but he held it in. He was not weak, no. It was such a violent illustration – a struggle between two, a battle in black and white. It was signed – oh, yes, it was.

“What’s that?” Yoongi asked as he sat down next to Taehyung, observing the drawing. Taehyung handed it to him.

“I failed him. I didn’t understand this. I could have helped him, Yoongi. Just look at this, this is so clear now, it’s…right?”

“It’s not your fault, Tae. He was good at hiding it,” Yoongi wrapped an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. Jimin walked in, dressed in black – unusual for someone who prefers bright colours. Jin was with him, also dressed in black.

“Can I take this?” Taehyung asked, and Yoongi nodded. Taehyung folded the drawing and placed it in his pocket – next to his heart.

“Are you ready?” Jimin asked, and Taehyung nodded. They all walked out of the room, and headed outside. It was a rainy day, they had black umbrellas.

Once they arrived, Taehyung took out a piece of paper – it was a coloured portrait of Jungkook smiling. He knelt on the wet ground and placed the drawing on it carefully. The rain poured over it, the colours started to melt and fade.

“I never said it, but I really did like you,” Taehyung spoke at the drawing, sighing. He took out the illustration, and placed it over the drawing. The black, violent lines softened.

And Taehyung recognised his eyes on the paper. They have been covered by lines, deep lines of regret, and disappointment. And the rain washed them, cleaned them. And his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> *Always the Demon fidgets here beside me  
> And swims around, impalpable as air:  
> I drink him, feel him burn the lungs inside me  
> With endless evil longings and despair.
> 
> ( Roy Campbell translation )


End file.
